Dirty Martini
by LJConnelly
Summary: Castle and Beckett have a twisted case to solve, but the investigation is put on hold when Beckett gets sick on the job. When they return, answers lead to more questions as they interview everyone from frat boys to computer programmers to drug addicts!
1. Chapter 1: The Setback

**Author's Notes: The story is set between "Under the Gun" and "Punked," meaning the last thing that happened was Mike Royce's betrayal, and Josh isn't in the picture yet.**

**Also, the first two chapters were originally the whole thing. I just wrote it for fun, but then a dear friend of mine read it and wanted me to solve the case, so I finished it. As a result, the first two chapters do have quite a different feel than the rest, but it does all tie together, I promise.**

**Lastly, the all-important disclaimer: I of course do not own Castle or any of the characters (save the extras specific to this case, which I made up.) Castle is my inspiration, not my creation.**

**Enjoy!**

At seven seventeen on Tuesday morning, Richard Castle awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. Sleepily, he rolled over and looked at the display. Beckett.

"Ca—Castle," he answered, stifling a yawn.

"There's a—body on 95th and Lex," she said. She didn't sound too enthused to be awake either.

"Be right there," said Castle, rolling out of bed and slipping into a pair of jeans. Twenty minutes later, he arrived on the scene of 95th and Lex, carrying two cups of coffee. Much to his surprise, Beckett turned it down. Wondering if he'd done something wrong, Castle frowned and walked on towards the body – or what was left of it.

"Female, approximately twenty-five years old," said Lanie Parish. "Based on temp and lividity, I'd say she's only been dead about an hour."

"Cause of death?" Beckett asked. Strangely, she didn't look much more lively than the corpse. Castle wondered again why she didn't take the coffee.

"Preliminarily, I'm going to guess blunt force trauma to the head, but I won't know for sure until I get her back to the lab."

Beckett bent down to examine the mangled body, then immediately stood up again. "Excuse me," she said, and walked quickly the other way. Castle and Lanie watched her go, then exchanged a glance. Lanie shrugged. A sound caught their attention, and they turned to look after Beckett again.

"Is she—" Castle began.

"—Vomiting in a garbage can?" Lanie finished.

"I think so..." said Castle. "That's weird. She never seemed like the squeamish type, working homicide and all."

"She's not," said Lanie, shaking her head. "Why don't you go check on her?"

"You check on her!" said Castle. "She'll bite my head off!"

Lanie crossed her arms and shook her head, leaving Castle no choice but to check on the mysteriously sick Beckett.

"Are you alright?" Castle asked, walking up to her.

"I'm fine," she said, straightening up and putting her hair behind her ears. Castle didn't buy it. She no longer looked ghostly pale, but rather a sickly shade of green.

"You don't look fine," said Castle. "Why did you even come in if you're sick?"

"I don't have—a fever," she said haltingly. She swallowed as if suppressing the urge to throw up again.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I think it's just food pois—" Whatever it was, it caused her to dive for the garbage can again.

"Food poisoning?" Castle finished for her, pulling back her hair.

"Yeah," she said, standing up again.

Castle pulled out a tissue out of his pocket and handed it to her. "You gonna be okay?" he asked.

Beckett nodded, wiping her mouth with the tissue. "Thanks," she said. "Okay. Let's go see about the body."

"You okay?" Lanie asked with a look that suggested she already knew the answer to her own question.

"Fine," said Beckett, taking a breath to clear her head. "You were saying?"

"Just that I'll need to get her down to the lab. And get you down to bed! What are you doing coming in to work and then throwin' up in a trash can?"

"I'm sure it's just something I ate," said Beckett. She looked queasy. "Let's get back to the station."

Back at the station, Castle raided the break room looking for tea. He now understood completely why Beckett had refused the coffee, and he wanted to do something nice for her that she might actually enjoy. Or, at least something that wouldn't make her feel worse. After a few minutes of searching through cabinets, he found a peppermint teabag and steeped it in a cup of hot water, then brought it to Beckett. Only, she wasn't at her desk.

"Did she go home?" Castle asked Ryan and Esposito, peering over the cubicle walls to where they sat.

Ryan shook his head and pointed towards the bathroom.

"I see," said Castle. He leaned against the edge of Beckett's desk and waited until she emerged from the bathroom. "You should really go home," he said, handing her the cup of tea.

"What's this?" she said, looking bewildered.

"Peppermint tea," said Castle. "Figured it might settle your stomach a little."

Beckett shrugged. "Worth a try," she said, taking a sip. She sat down and stared at the computer for a moment without doing anything.

"How are you feeling?" Castle asked.

"I've been better," she replied.

"You sure you don't want to just go home and sleep it off?" Castle asked again. "I'm sure the boys can cover for a day while you get some rest."

"Rest won't change anything," said Beckett. "It'll just take some time to get it all out of my system."

"Fair enough," Castle shrugged, "but are you gonna be able to get any work done if you have to stop and throw up every fifteen minutes?

"It's not every fifteen minutes," said Beckett with a scowl, sounding more like her usual self. "And yes, I'll be able to get work done. I'm just... a little nauseous. It's not a big deal." She took another tentative sip of the tea Castle had brought her. "Thanks," she added, setting the cup on the desk.

"No problem," said Castle. "Anything I can do? For you, or the case?"

"Umm..." Beckett tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. "Why don't you check in with Lanie and see if she's ID'd the body or cause of death yet. I need to check in with Montgomery about a couple things."

"Sure," said Castle, and he headed down the street to the New York Medical Examiner's building.

"Did you get her to go home yet?" Lanie asked when he opened the door.

"No, unfortunately," said Castle, "but I did at least make her a cup of tea. So far she's been able to keep that down... at least as of five minutes ago. Either way, I don't think she's going anywhere. She insists she'll be able to work despite not feeling well."

Lanie pursed her lips. "Leave it to Beckett to _want_ to work a homicide when she's puking her guts out."

"That's a... lovely image," said Castle, turning a little green himself as he looked at the corpse on Lanie's table. _Speaking of 'guts out...'_

"Anyway," said Lanie, "I'm guessing you came down here to talk to me about more than Beckett's stomach."

"Definitely," said Castle. "She wanted me to ask you about an ID or COD."

"We got a hit on the ID," said Lanie. "Prints were in the system. Our vic is Penny Albright, age twenty-six. Arrested for drunken disorderly in 2006, but charges were dropped. We've got a next of kin she can call – mother Ethyl Albright, out in Queens."

Castle nodded, still transfixed by the brutally mangled corpse. "Cause of death?"

"I'm still working on it," said Lanie, "but it probably _was_ the blunt force trauma. There were several metal fragments embedded in her skull—" she held up a couple of evidence bags "—but not in the abdominal wounds. There was much less internal bleeding around the abdominal wounds, suggesting she sustained those post-mortem."

"That's strange. Why would someone kill herand _then _disembowel her?"

Lanie shrugged. "I'll leave that to you detectives. I still can't be certain it's the head trauma that killed her until I do a few more tests, but that's what it looks like so far. Also, time of death is between five and six A.M." Lanie stopped and grinned, holding up the plastic bags again. "Okay, Castle, cop test. What's your next move?"

"What?"

"If you were Beckett, what would you ask me to do?"

Castle blinked a couple times, looking back and forth between the body and the evidence bags. "Ask forensics to run the metal fragments?"

"Very good!" said Lanie with a smile. "I'll send them over and get back to work on the autopsy. I'll call you when I know anything more."

"Good," said Castle distractedly. He would have enjoyed being treated like a real cop if not for the unfortunate reason why. With that in mind, he went back to the precinct to report to Beckett.

She was sitting at her desk, head in her hands. Castle crossed over to her and placed his hand on her back. "Beckett. Go home."

She mumbled something unintelligible. "Hmm?" Castle asked.

"I said, I don't _have _a home," Beckett said, audibly this time.

"That's right..." said Castle awkwardly. "Beckett, where _are _you staying when you're not at the station? I know you can't be sleeping here every night, or there'd be boxes stacked on boxes for all your coats and scarves."

"Long term hotel rental," she said simply. "I can't keep anything down," she added, changing the subject.

"I'm sorry," said Castle, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"It's not your fault."

"You're always welcome at my house, you know," Castle reminded her. "You can crash there for a few hours if you want."

"Oh Castle, I couldn't."

"Sure you could. It wouldn't be an imposition. Alexis is at school and Mother... you don't have anything to worry about."

Beckett sighed resignedly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am too sick to work."

Castle almost laughed. "You think? You've only thrown up, what, three, four times?"

Beckett shrugged. "Something like that."

"Come on," said Castle, offering her his hand. "Let's go."

"Just leave?" Beckett asked skeptically.

"Ryan and Esposito can hold down the fort for one day. They'll be fine. Do you think you can make it through the cab ride home?"

"Do I have a choice?" Beckett asked.

"Not unless you want to walk home."

"Hell no."

"Then cab ride it is. Shall we bring a bucket, Beckett?"

Beckett rolled her eyes at him. "I'd love to say no, but it's actually not a bad idea."

Castle emptied out a plastic wastebasket, which he brought with them when they left to hail a cab. The driver didn't ask.

Castle and Beckett climbed into the cab, Beckett holding the empty wastebasket. Castle watched her nervously, especially whenever the car stopped suddenly or took a corner too fast. After one such turn, Beckett's knuckles turned white as she took several deep breaths, trying to quell the nausea.

"Are you okay?" Castle asked her.

Beckett closed her eyes, taking another deep breath. "I don't know," she said.

"We're almost there," said Castle encouragingly. Then, a few minutes later: "You don't... get carsick do you?"

"No," said Beckett, almost laughing. "This has nothing to do with carsickness."

Despite the close call, she did manage to make it back to Castle's loft. They left the taxi and slowly walked into the building. Beckett almost got sick in the elevator, but just made it inside.

"Castle, where's your—"

Knowing exactly what she was going to ask, Castle pointed in the direction of the bathroom. He flinched slightly at the sound of her retching, and gazed sadly at her when she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"No thanks," said Beckett, sinking into his couch.

Castle sat down next to her and handed her a blanket. "You can just sleep for a while if you want."

Beckett nodded. She looked exhausted. "Yeah. Okay."

Castle got up, and came back with his laptop and a glass of water. "I don't want you to get too dehydrated," he said, placing the glass on the coffee table. Try just drinking a few small sips."

Beckett took the glass of water and carefully, very slowly, took a sip of it. "Thanks," she said, then set the glass down and curled up with the blanket.

"Sleep well," said Castle. He leaned over and rubbed her back. "And feel better."

"Mmhmm," Beckett murmured, closing her eyes.

Castle pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and texted Lanie: "_I finally got her to go home. She's taking a nap on my couch. What should we do about calling the next of kin?_"

A couple minutes later, Lanie texted him back: "_You're good. I thought she'd never give in. Montgomery can make the call. I'll let him know._"

Castle thanked her, then set his phone down and opened up his laptop and began typing. "_Nikki Heat's stomach churned as she gazed upon the mangled remains..."_


	2. Chapter 2: The Invitation

Alexis walked through the door, chatting away on her cellphone. Castle jumped, startled by her sudden entrance – he'd been absorbed in his writing, for once – and quickly put his finger to his lips to signal Alexis to keep her voice down. She gave him a bewildered expression and took her conversation upstairs.

"What was that all about?" she asked quietly when she came back down the stairs a few minutes later.

Castle motioned towards the sleeping visitor on their couch.

"Is that... Detective Beckett? What's she doing here? And why is she asleep?"

"Yes," said Castle. "She's sleeping here because she's not feeling well. She got sick at work today."

"How sick...?" said Alexis, making a face and backing away.

"Deathly," said Castle. When Alexis showed no sign of reading his sarcasm, he gave her a sheepish look and started over. "It's just food poisoning. You won't catch anything. But all the same, she's been really sick all day."

"Poor Beckett," said Alexis, shaking her head. "She must feel really awful if she let you take her here. Unless... oh God, you didn't kidnap her, did you?"

"Of course not," said Castle. "But it did take some convincing. She kept saying she'd still be able to work, but she couldn't keep anything down, and I could tell she felt terrible. I told her she could get some rest here."

"I'm glad she gave in." Alexis curled up in an armchair across from Castle, balancing a behemoth biology book on her knee.

"Me too," said Castle. "By the way, where's Gram?"

"Day out on the town with... so-and-so. Someone from the theatre company."

"Ah," said Castle, nodding.

About then, Beckett stirred and slowly sat up.

"I see you're alive," said Castle, glad to see she wasn't sprinting for the bathroom, at least yet. "How do you feel?"

Beckett put her head in her hands, squinting to block out the light. "Dizzy," she said.

"Try and drink some more water," Castle suggested.

Beckett reached for the glass of water with one hand, shielding her eyes from the light with the other. She took a few sips of water, set the glass down, and put her head in her hands again.

"I'm sorry you're sick, detective," said Alexis.

Beckett startled slightly. She hadn't seen Little Castle. "Oh, hi, Alexis," she said, still not looking up. "I'll be fine."

"Indeed," said Castle, rubbing her back once more. "And hey! You haven't thrown up in, what," he glanced at his watch, "three hours?"

"Don't hold your breath," said Beckett. She took another sip of water.

"Still not feeling well?" Castle asked sympathetically.

Beckett shrugged. Castle leaned in closer to her. "Kate," he said softly. "You don't have to be tough for us. It's just Alexis and me. If you're sick, you're sick. No reason to be embarrassed."

"Castle..." she grumbled disapprovingly.

"It's true," Castle continued. "Just relax. You can go back to sleep if you want."

"No... I wish I could take something for this headache, though."

"I can get you some ibuprofen," Castle offered.

"No thanks," said Beckett. "Probably not a good idea on a very, very empty stomach."

"Good point," said Castle. "I think I learned that the hard way in the tenth grade... Anyway. _Is_ there anything I can do for you?"

"Not really. I think I'll just have to wait it out."

"I suppose you will," said Castle. "Are you at least comfortable?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Oh," she added, "I have a text. It's Lanie." Beckett picked up her phone, and laughed slightly at the message.

"What did she say?" Castle asked. Alexis was paying attention too.

Beckett looked sheepish. "She says that... since I'm not contagious—"

"Don't tell me she wants you to come back to work!" Alexis blurted out.

"No," said Beckett. She stalled, running her finger around the reply button. "She said..."

If Beckett hadn't been so sick and peaky, she would have been blushing. Castle grabbed the phone, opened his eyes very wide indeed, and closed the phone, handing it back to Beckett.

"What did it say?" Alexis wanted to know.

Castle and Beckett exchanged a look. Then she gave him an approving nod. "Might as well," she said.

"Lanie says Beckett had better kiss me if she's spending all this time at my house."

Alexis giggled. "Well?"

Castle and Beckett exchanged another look. Castle raised his eyebrows. Beckett pursed her lips.

"I don't know," said Castle. "I don't reckon she would ahh, taste very good just now."

"Thanks," said Beckett sarcastically.

"What?" said Castle. "It's true!"

"Lanie will be so disappointed," Beckett teased, shaking her head, then wincing in pain.

"Alright, how about this?" said Castle. He leaned over, brushed Beckett's hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear, and gently kissed her on the cheek.

This time, sickly complexion aside, Beckett definitely blushed. "Castle!" she chided, occupying herself with another sip of water.

"Satisfied?" Castle asked, turning to Alexis, who was grinning.

"Satisfied," she said with a definitive nod, then turned back to her biology textbook.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you," Castle muttered.

"It's okay," she said. "You just kind of... took me by surprise."

Castle shrugged, giving her the same expression he had worn when defending his record of misdemeanors the day he and Beckett had first met.

Alexis had just gone to bed, and Castle had just finished eating. Beckett was reading one of Castle's earlier books, but even in the dim light of the evening, reading was still making her head hurt. She blinked a few times, set the book down, and rubbed her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Castle asked her.

"Okay," she said. "Still have a headache."

"Well... you haven't eaten all day. Obviously. Do you feel up to eating anything yet?"

Beckett thought about what food would feel like and decided against it. "Not really. I think I could keep down tea now though."

"I'll make you some," said Castle without a second thought. "What kind would you like? We have black tea, earl grey, peppermint, herbal spice, ginger..."

"Ginger," said Beckett.

Castle set about making the tea, and Beckett leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. It was late. Little Castle and Hurricane Martha were in bed, and Big Castle was surely about to follow. He had changed into pajamas at some point. Beckett felt guilty that she was still there. What she _should_ do, she reasoned, was ask him to call her a cab, and she would go back to her hotel and try to sleep off the pounding headache, and hope she didn't throw up again in the middle of the night. But what she wanted to do... it would be so easy to just curl up on this couch she'd been sitting or lying on most of the day anyway, and stay the night there. She knew where the bathroom was, and the loft was warm – not just because of the heater, but the colors on the wall and the people inside the house. They gave it a different kind of warmth, one she wasn't going to find at the hotel no matter how high she turned up the heater. No, she wouldn't be warm like that at the hotel room. She sighed, weighing her options – privacy and perhaps a shred of dignity (if it wasn't completely gone already), or the warmth and comfort of Castle's loft... which would also mean she wouldn't have to walk out in the cold, ride in elevators... ugh.

Castle brought her the cup of tea, and also a plate of crackers. "If you're up for it," he explained, setting the plate on the coffee table.

Beckett accepted the tea and took a drink of it, eyeing the plate of crackers. "What the hell," she said, and picked one up. They were just saltines. It should be fine. Hopefully. She nibbled the corner off one, swallowed, and chased it with another mouthful of tea. Castle eyed her curiously, waiting to see how she would handle food.

"I think I'm okay," she said, answering his unasked question.

"I didn't ask."

"Well, you were _not asking_ very loudly."

Castle smiled, remembering the last time they had had that conversation. He stood there watching quietly while Beckett painstakingly made her way, nibble by nibble, through a single cracker.

"Beckett?" he asked, hands in pajama pockets, shoulders shrugged. He looked like a little boy about to ask for a toy gun.

She looked up at him, signaling him to ask his question.

"You can stay here, you know," he said. "It's late. Probably freezing. I'd hate for you to have to take a cab home at this hour when you're sick."

"I told you, I don't have a fever. The weather's not going to make any difference." Even as she said it, though, the thought of venturing out into the dark and cold was not very inviting, when she could just stay here on this warm couch and drink hot tea.

"I know," said Castle, taking a seat next to her on the couch. "But you'd still be much more comfortable staying here than going out there. And my bed _is_ a king size."

Beckett froze. "No way," she said, her guard right back up. "No. I can't sleep with you." That hadn't even been an option in her mind. Even if she _did _decide to stay over, it would surely be on the couch...

"Not _sleep with me,_ sleep with me," said Castle, shaking his head. "Just... sleep. I'll stay on my side. I won't bother you. Promise," he said, hands up as if to show he was unarmed.

Beckett sighed in disgust. He could be so _impossible _sometimes.

"Come on, Kate," he pressed on. "You know you don't want to go out there."

"Oh, that's it," she said, having had enough. She stood up as if to leave, but got very dizzy and sat back down suddenly, conveniently proving Castle's point.

"Can I ask you something?" Castle asked when she had regained her bearings and taken another sip of tea.

"What, Castle?" she asked. She was frustrated, not feeling well, and rapidly losing her patience.

"Why the stone wall?" said Castle. "I know you trust me... at least to a reasonable extent. I've never tried to take advantage of you, and I know full well if I did, you could – and probably would – shoot me. So what are you trying to protect yourself from?"

"I just don't want to overstay my welcome," she said evasively, busying herself with another cracker.

"You and I both know that isn't true," said Castle, reading her mind, as usual. "You're scared. I just want to know why."

"I'm not scared of anything," said Beckett, trying to sound matter-of-fact, but coming off defensive.

Castle gave her a look clearly stating that he didn't believe her.

"Can we not do this right now?" she asked, resting her forehead on her palm.

Castle put his hands up again. "You can leave if you want, detective, I'm not stopping you. I'm just saying – Tempur-Pedic mattress, down comforter, 800 thread-count sheets... I can make you coffee in the morning." He flashed her that winning smile.

The man had a point. She imagined sinking into his warm bed, pulling the comforter around her shoulders, and drifting off to sleep... she hoped she would be able to drink coffee in the morning. One day of merciless vomiting was enough. She had to admit, his offer was tempting. _Oh, what the hell?_

"Fine," she said. "But if you tell _anyone_, especially at the precinct, I _will_ make good on that promise to shoot you."

"Good choice," said Castle, folding his hands and nodding. "Can I interest you in something more comfortable to sleep in? A tee shirt? Some sweat pants, perhaps?"

"Um... yeah," said Beckett, pushing the blanket off her lap and steeling herself to get up. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Do you want to take a shower or anything?"

"I'll take a shower in the morning. Maybe _after_ I go back to my hotel for a change of clothes before work."

"You think you'll be ready to go back to work tomorrow?" Castle asked skeptically.

"I hope so," Beckett sighed, standing up. "I was right in the middle of a case... which reminds me, I never got around to asking you if Lanie had found anything..."

"She did," said Castle. "I guess I just forgot to tell you, what with you feeling all miserable and everything."

"Well?" Beckett asked, gesturing impatiently.

Castle thought back to their conversation that morning. "As of when I left, she was still pretty sure the cause of death was the blunt force trauma to the head, but she still needed to do some more tests. There were metal fragments in her skull, which she sent to forensics – per my suggestion – and those fragments were not in the abdominal wounds... her killer seems to have added those _after_ he killed her. Time of death was between five and six A.M. She also ID'd her as Penny Albright, and found a next of kin. Montgomery made the call."

Beckett raised her eyebrows, admittedly impressed with his memory of all the details. "Thanks, Castle," she said. "I wish I had my murder board here..."

"I'll still remember it in the morning," Castle assured her. "And if I know you, you'll remember it too. Come on, Kate," he said, putting his hand on her back and ushering her upstairs. "Let's go to bed."

Beckett's stomach jolted, but this time it had nothing to do with food poisoning. There he was, calling her by her first name again. The only time she remembered him doing that before was right before her apartment had been blown up by her stalker. _It's nothing,_ she told herself. _I'm just sleeping here because it's comfortable and I don't feel like taking a cab back to my hotel. That's all. _All the same, she couldn't help but feel comforted by Castle's hand on her back.

Once again, as if reading her mind, Castle asked, "When's the last time you let someone take care of you when you were sick?"

Beckett thought about it. She couldn't remember. She didn't get sick all that often anyway, so she could hardly remember the last time she'd had anything worse than a cold, let alone the last time someone was there to take care of her at the same time. "I don't know," she said at last.

"Well, that's no good," said Castle, turning and walking into his bedroom. "All the more reason you did the right thing coming here today."

"I guess so," said Beckett, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the bed.

Castle pulled open a couple of drawers and handed her some clothes. "I don't know how well they'll fit, but they should be fine for sleeping in."

"Right," said Beckett. "Is there a bathroom up here?"

"You can change in here," said Castle, and when Beckett glared daggers at him, he quickly covered: "I'll leave, I'll leave, sheesh, no need to panic!"

Beckett's expression softened, and Castle left the room until she had changed and crawled into bed. She told him he could come back, and he climbed into bed next to her. Another rush of adrenaline jolted her chest, and she tried again to tell herself it was nothing. Just a place to sleep. She took a deep breath, hoping to convince herself.

"Beckett?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." _If only my heart would stop pounding..._

"Good," said Castle. "You let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Yeah," said Beckett, trying to relax. After all, he hadn't been exaggerating. The bed was sublimely comfortable.

Castle leaned over her and tucked the blankets closer around her shoulders. "Castle!" she started. She was about to tell him "don't," but stopped short. He was warm.

"Goodnight, Beckett," he said, hugging her, then moving to his side of the bed as promised.

Beckett smiled. "Goodnight," she said. _Maybe he isn't so bad, _she thought as she drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3: The Loved Ones

**Author's Notes: Thanks for all the reviews so fast! I'm glad you're enjoying it, especially since I was originally embarrassed about those first two chapters! Well, get excited, because it's on to the actual murder investigation!**

The next morning, Castle was up early, scribbling in his notebook. He wanted to get back to work and solve the case almost as badly as Beckett did. The double-death of blunt force trauma and disembowelment was bothering him endlessly. He wondered if there had been anything inside Penny's torso that would have been worth finding, and decided to give Lanie a call. He stepped out of the bedroom and dialed her number.

"You're up early," she answered.

"Yes, Dr. Parish," he said. "I have a question for you. First of all, have you come to a conclusion about the cause of death yet?"

"Definitely," she said. "No doubt it was the trauma to the head. But there's a couple things that are a little weird."

"Oh?"

"First, the metal fragments in her hair weren't from the murder weapon. They might have been on it, but they weren't from the weapon itself. The weapon was made out of stone, and I found some irregular fragments consistent with the impact, but the metal fragments were far too regular to have been from shattering on impact."

"So where did the metal come from?" Castle asked.

"I have no idea. Forensics should be running them today. Maybe they can tell you something."

"Huh," said Castle. "Anything else?"

"Tox screen came back negative. That's about it."

"Thanks," said Castle. "I'll let Beckett know."

Castle could almost hear Lanie's eyes getting bigger over the phone. "Is she still over there!"

Castle swallowed. If he answered that question, he might get shot.

"I'll call her right away," he said quickly, pretending not to have heard her. "I'll see you later."

With that, he hung up the phone and looked around the room. He peeked back into the bedroom, where Beckett was still sleeping – soundly, from what he could tell. Hopefully that meant she hadn't heard him almost slip and tell Lanie that she was still there. He looked next at the clock. It was about 7:30, still very early for him. It was definitely time to make coffee. Alexis had beaten him to it, and was pouring herself a travel mug on the way out the door.

"Morning, Dad," she said. "You're up early."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Castle mused.

"Because it's seven thirty! The sun is not yet pouring through the windows!"

"So it isn't..." said Castle. He pulled two coffee mugs out of the cabinet and started filling them.

"Already got some," said Alexis, holding up her travel mug as she slung her backpack over her shoulders.

"Right," said Castle, but he filled both cups anyway. "Aren't you gonna be late for class?"

"I will be if I don't get out of here! See you later, Dad!"

Castle breathed another sigh of relief and added cream and sugar to the cups. He hoped Beckett would be feeling well enough to drink it. Just as this thought crossed his mind, Beckett made her way down the stairs, crossing her arms over her chest and looking sleepy.

"Good morning, detective," said Castle. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she said, sitting down at a barstool. "I'm looking forward to getting back to work."

Castle slid the cup of coffee across the counter to her so it was right under her nose.

"Thanks," said Beckett. She held the cup in both hands and raised it to her lips.

"Are you hungry?" Castle asked.

"Starving. I think."

"You think?"

"Yes. I'm hungry," Beckett confirmed.

"What do you want to eat?"

Beckett shrugged. "Breakfast."

Castle laughed. "Eggs and pancakes?"

"You don't have to make me _pancakes_," said Beckett. "Anything is fine."

"Then eggs and pancakes it is." Castle poured a cup of flour into a bowl and began stirring. "Don't tell me," he added, "you're just scared Agent Shaw is going to burst in here and accuse us of being 'domestic' again?"

"Of course not," said Beckett. She pointedly took another drink of coffee.

While the pancakes were cooking, Castle filled Beckett in on the updates from Lanie.

"Hmm," said Beckett, pondering the evidence. "You said Montgomery called Penny's next of kin, right?"

"Yep," said Castle.

"We should talk to her today," said Beckett. "We'll do that first unless forensics has something better for us."

"You ready to go back today, then?" Castle asked.

"Yeah. Definitely."

"I'm glad you're feeling better," said Castle, smiling and passing her a plate of food.

Beckett nodded, and took a bite of eggs.

"Eat slowly," Castle cautioned her.

"I will."

After breakfast, Beckett changed into the clothes she had worn the day before. "I'll meet you at the precinct," she told Castle, who was dressed, but still sipping coffee.

"I'm ready!" he said, standing up from where he sat on the couch.

"_Oh_, no," said Beckett. "We are _not_ going in together. I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea."

"You mean, the _right_ idea."

"No. I'm going in now, you can meet me there in half an hour."

"I thought you were going to go back to your hotel and shower first," said Castle.

"I was," said Beckett, "but I really want to get back on this case. I'll shower tonight. See you soon."

She left the loft, and Castle picked up his notebook again, having half an hour to kill. When his time was up, he grabbed his messenger bag, took the stairs, and hailed a cab.

When he got to the precinct, Beckett was staring at the whiteboard, which she had already filled in with all the information Castle had given her.

"Any word from forensics on those metal fragments yet?" Castle asked.

"Yeah," said Beckett with her eyebrows furrowed. "They were chromium, coated in holly berry pulp."

"Holly berry pulp?" Castle asked. "What does that mean?"

"Hard to say," said Beckett. "Holly berries are poisonous, but chromium is harmless in small concentrations. Either way, the tox screen was negative, so Penny wasn't poisoned. We'll continue our investigation, and see where it leads us."

"Right," said Castle. "And where is that?"

"For now," said Beckett, "to her next of kin. That's always a good place to start."

Ethyl Albright was a thin, weary-looking woman in her middle ages, and the news of her daughter's death looked like it had wreaked further havoc on her frail frame.

"She was so young," she moaned, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," said Beckett softly. "Can you think of anyone who would have wanted to hurt your daughter?"

"No one," said Ethyl, choking back more tears. "She was this close to finishing her doctorate... Penny was going to be a science teacher."

"Did she seem upset or anything lately?" Beckett asked. "Was she having any sort of trouble with anyone?"

"Well... she had recently broken up with her boyfriend. I don't think he would have hurt Penny, though. They went to school together, and as far as I know, they stayed friends."

"Were they in the same program?" Castle asked, remembering a case the year before where a suspect had competed with their victim for a fellowship.

"No," said Ethyl. "He was a music major."

"Do you have any contact information for this boyfriend?" Beckett asked. "A name? Maybe a phone number?"

"His name was Collin Stonefeld," Ethyl told her. "I don't know his phone number."

"We'll find him. And just so we're thorough, can you tell us where you were between five and six in the morning on yesterday?"

"I was still asleep," said Ethyl. "I get up around seven to get ready for work."

"Thanks for your time, Mrs. Albright."

Castle and Beckett left the house and headed back to the precinct. Beckett looked upset on the drive back.

"What's wrong?" Castle asked.

"It never gets any easier," said Beckett, shaking her head. "That woman did not deserve what happened."

"No," said Castle. "They rarely do. And she's already a widow."

"How do you know that?"

"There are pictures of the whole family together around the house, but none of the recent photos have the husband. And she was still wearing her wedding ring."

Beckett shook herself as if brushing off dust. "We've got to catch this son of a bitch." She pulled out her cellphone and speed dialed Ryan. "I've got an ex-boyfriend of Penny Albright's I need you to run down," she said. "Collin Stonefeld." She disconnected and pulled into a space in front of the precinct.

"Collin Stonefeld," said Ryan, handing Beckett a slip of paper.

"That was fast."

"Found him on her cell records. Didn't take too long."

"Thanks." She turned to Castle. "Let's pick him up."

"We understand you were dating Penny Albright?" Beckett asked Collin half an hour later.

"Yes," said Collin nervously, tapping his fingers on the coffee table, "until about a month ago. Why? Is she in some kind of trouble?"

Castle and Beckett exchanged a look.

"You tell us," said Beckett. "Did you have any disagreements with Penny?"

"No," said Collin. "We're still on good terms... we kept all our mutual friends and everything. What's this about?"

"Penny was found dead yesterday morning."

Collin turned ghastly white. "Dead?"

Beckett nodded. "I understand this must be a shock for you, but I have to ask, where were you between five and six A.M. on Tuesday?

Collin frowned, presumably thinking. "I was on campus early that day, setting up for a concert."

"At five o'clock in the morning?" Beckett asked skeptically. "I thought you artist types were all night people." She looked pointedly at Castle.

"I didn't say I was happy about it," said Collin. "The concert wasn't until five PM, but my schedule was booked with lessons all day. The only time I had to set up was early that morning. You can ask anyone else in the department. I was setting up until about eight."

"We'll look into it," said Beckett with a nod. "When was the last time you saw Penny?"

"A couple of weeks ago," said Collin. "I've been really busy getting ready for this concert, and she'd been up to her ears in research, so we hadn't been able to touch base in a while..." he paused, recollecting himself. "You might want to try talking to her best friend, Mindy Sand. She lives in Trenton, but I know they talked on Skype all the time."

"Thank you," said Beckett. "We'll let you know if we have any more questions."

"Sure," said Collin. "I hope you find out what happened to her."

"We will," Castle reassured him. "Detective Beckett is the best."

Beckett looked away awkwardly, but said nothing. The two of them ushered Collin Stonefeld to the door and checked in with Ryan and Esposito.

"Check on his alibi," said Beckett, handing them a slip of paper with the name of the department head where Collin studied music, then turning to Castle. "Time for a road trip," she said.

Castle looked excited, until they had to sit in traffic for almost two hours. With half an hour to go, he was squirming in his seat and fidgeting so much he was rocking the car.

"Castle, what is the matter with you?" Beckett asked, looking irritated.

He looked sheepishly at her. "I have to pee."

Beckett rolled her eyes at him. "Suck it up," she told him. "I'm not pulling over."

"Very poor word choice," Castle groaned. Beckett ignored him.

After Castle had bolted for Mindy's bathroom and tended to nature's call, Mindy had some very interesting information for them.

"I knew something was wrong when she didn't keep our Skype date last night," she said tearfully. "I tried calling her this morning and just got voicemail... oh God."

"I'm very sorry, Mindy," said Beckett. "Can you tell us anything that might help us catch her killer?"

"I don't know," said Mindy. "Penny was so sweet... just a busy college student. I can't imagine why anyone would want to kill her."

"I know this must be hard for you," said Beckett, "but I need to ask. Where were you yesterday between five and six in the morning?"

"Sleeping," said Mindy. "My first class isn't—wait, Tuesday?"

Beckett nodded.

"As in... Monday night, only technically Tuesday?"

"Correct."

"Oh. Then I was right here, working on a paper. I'm a horrible procrastinator," she confessed. "You can ask my roommate. She was shocked to see me still up when she got up for her early lab."

"Do you have security cameras in this building?" Beckett asked.

"Sure, why?" Mindy wanted to know.

"Just to verify that you didn't leave the building."

Mindy looked affronted, but she nodded. "Oh. Yeah. You can probably ask about it at the from desk."

"Anyway, about Penny," Beckett continued. "Did you know her in 2006?"

"Yeah, we've been best friends since high school. Why?" Mindy asked.

"We were able to identify her body because her fingerprints were in our system," said Beckett. "She had been arrested for drunken disorderly, but the charges were dropped. Do you know anything about that?"

"Oh, God," said Mindy.

"What?" Castle asked.

"That was the only night Penny ever really went beyond her limit," said Mindy, covering her face in her hands. "I lost her for a couple hours at a party... I had been drinking too, and..."

"Yes?" Beckett prompted.

"She called me around midnight, sobbing hysterically, and begging me to come get her. I picked her up at the frat house and we left, but we still had to walk home, and she wouldn't stop crying. That's when the neighbor across the street called the police and got Penny in trouble."

"But the charges were dropped," said Castle.

Mindy nodded. "I don't know why. Maybe the guy just had a change of heart when he saw how upset Penny was."

"Why _was _she so upset?" Beckett asked.

Mindy took a deep breath and looked up. "One of the guys at the party... took advantage of Penny while she was drunk. She said they were just making out, and he... well... she wanted to say no, but..."

Beckett nodded. "I understand."

"Do you know who the guy was?" Castle asked. "Did Penny ever file charges?"

"No," said Mindy, shaking her head. "I don't know his name. Penny pointed him out to me on campus once, but I don't think she knew his name either. I think she wanted to just forget about the whole thing."

"If we were to find a picture of this man, could you identify him?"

"Yeah," said Mindy. "His face was burned into my head the minute Penny pointed him out to me. It made me sick just looking at him."

"Do you know which fraternity he belonged to?" Beckett asked.

"No, but the party was at Kappa Beta Beta, so that might be it."

Beckett wrote this down. "One last thing. Do you know the name of the man who called to complain about Penny?"

"Jesse... Jesse Cayman," said Mindy. "I don't think he killed her though. I mean, if he dropped the drunken disorderly charge, I can't imagine—"

"We just need to follow up on any leads we can," Beckett explained. "We're doing whatever it takes to catch Penny's killer."

"Thank you," Mindy murmured, blotting her eyes with tissue again. Beckett gently placed a hand on her back before leaving with Castle.

Beckett's driving was nothing short of aggressive on the way back to New York. She was consistently ten miles an hour over the speed limit, and she had the steering wheel in a death grip.

"Either you really don't want me to complain about having to pee again," Castle suggested gingerly, "or you're really angry."

"It's disgusting," Beckett spat.

"What's disgusting? Needing to use the little boys' room?"

Beckett scowled. "No! Boys that think they can do whatever they want because a girl is drunk. It's despicable."

"Yeah," Castle agreed, suddenly serious. He considered the "wild phase" that Beckett had suggested Alexis might be entering, and imagined Alexis coming home from a party, crying and slurring her speech. It made his skin crawl.

The two of them were quiet for the rest of the drive to New York. Back at the precinct, Beckett took out her markers and added the new information to the murder board while Castle went to the break room to make coffee. It was past lunchtime, and the four-hour round trip to Trenton had made him both hungry and sleepy. He took the coffees back to Beckett's desk and handed her one.

"Thanks," she said, eyes still fixated on the board. "This is a lot of loose ends."

"No kidding," said Castle, examining the board. "Do we even have any suspects?"

"Not so much..." said Beckett. "Collin's alibi checked out."

"Well, what about the mother? The friend? Do we have alibis for them?"

"Ryan and Esposito and running through the security camera footage for Mindy's apartment. Ethyl's can't really be verified since she lives alone in a house with no doorman, but she has no motive. We'll keep her in mind, but I doubt it was her."

Castle was about to launch into one of his very dramatic hypotheses, but Beckett's phone rang.

"Beckett." She turned back to the murder board and added "6'1" – 6'4"" to the suspect column. "Thanks Lanie," she said. "Yeah, much better. I'm fine. No, he— I gotta go."

"What was that all about?" Castle asked.

"Lanie said she did some calculations, and based on the angle of the fatal blow, Penny's attacker was between six-one and six-four," said Beckett.

"And?"

"That's it," said Beckett.

Castle smiled and shook his head. "Never mind," he said.

Beckett blushed and picked up her coat. "Come on, Castle," she said. "We're going frat hopping."


	4. Chapter 4: The Case that Wasn't

**Author's Notes: After doing a little legal research, it has come to my attention that "drunk and disorderly" is actually "drunk **_**and**_** disorderly." I had probably misheard it and never seen it written. So, correction, the charge against Penny would have been drunk and disorderly. Moreover, in criminal cases (including misdemeanors) it's not really the victim's (or in this case complainer's) decision whether or not to go through with the case. That decision lies with the prosecution once the police turn the file over to them. So, slight correction: the guy that called in the complaint against Penny didn't himself drop the charges; he asked the police to do so. This will make much more sense once you read the chapter! Just wanted to make a little law disclaimer.**

**That being said, enjoy this next chapter! I should have the next one ready pretty soon this time since I don't have to do any more legal research this time. And as always, Castle is my inspiration, not my creation.**

Castle stared at the white columns on the porch of the building taking in the 100-person house and the massive gold Greek letters across the balcony. "Wow," he said simply.

"What, Castle, you weren't a raging frat boy in college?" Beckett asked him.

"No, actually. I've never actually been inside a frat house."

"No way," said Beckett mockingly, then more seriously: "You're not missing out." She rapped on the heavy double door and waited.

"Hey," said the boy who opened the door. He looked Beckett up and down, pausing at the narrowest point of her waist, accentuated by the flattering cut of her coat. "Stoplight party doesn't start till 11, but if you switch that red coat for a green or yellow one, we'll let you in early with legs like that."

Castle looked utterly confused, and Beckett showed the kid her badge.

"OH," he said. "Uh... what can I do for you... officer?"

"Eyes up here," said Beckett. "I'd like to speak with your president."

"Uh... yeah. Hang on a sec. I'll go grab him." The boy turned down a hallway. "Darren!" He called. "There's a really hot cop here to talk to you!"

Beckett shook her head. Castle looked around the entryway of the house, taking it in. It would have looked like a mansion if it had been well kept, but decades of drunken twenty-somethings had left it coated in a thin layer of beer and bodily fluids, masking and distracting from what could have been grandeur.

"What was all that about?" Castle asked. "With the color of your coat and everything?"

"Red means I'm taken," said Beckett.

"Are you?" Castle asked. Beckett threw him an inquisitive look. "Taken?"

"Let's let them keep believing that," said Beckett, pulling the lapels of her coat tighter over her chest.

At that moment, the boy who had answered the door returned with another, presumably the president. "Hi," he said, shaking Beckett's hand. "I'm Darren Mitchell. What can I do for you?"

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett, and this is Richard Castle. I have some questions for you."

"No problem," said Darren. "Come on in."

He ushered them into a living room and gestured for them to make themselves comfortable. Castle was about to sit down, but Beckett hissed in his ear, "Don't sit on the couch! You have no idea where it's been!"

"And I probably don't want to," Castle muttered, noting an odd stain – several odd stains, actually – on the upholstery.

Beckett showed Darren a photo of Penny. "Do you recognize this girl?"

"No, but she's cute," said Darren, shaking his head. "Why?"

"We're investigating her murder."

"Murder?" said Darren, looking suddenly much less cocky. "What does that have to do with my house?"

"If you're lucky," said Beckett, "nothing. Were you or anyone you know an active member of this chapter in 2006?"

Darren shook his head again. "I was still in high school. Everyone from then would have graduated by now. I'm PC '07 and we're all seniors."

"I'm going to need a composite photo from 2006," said Beckett.

"Yeah," said Darren. "Follow me."

He led them down a hallway to a room resembling a library and opened a large file box. He flipped through a few pages, and pulled out a print of the 2006 composite. "Here you go," he said, handing it to Beckett. "I figured you'd want the small one rather than the big one in the frame."

"Thank you," said Beckett. "We'll be in touch if we have any further questions."

"I have one," said Castle, raising his index finger. He glanced over the composite photo, looking at the rows and rows of faces. "Do you have your own rooms in this house? Private rooms?"

"Some of the rooms are, yeah," said Darren. "Others hold two, three, or four. Why?"

"I was just wondering, with all these people, where would you go to have sex?"

Beckett shoved Castle into the car. "'Where would you go to have sex?' Really?"

"It was a legitimate question!" Castle said defensively. "If Penny was raped there, someone else probably would have seen it! Especially if there was a party that night."

Beckett nodded her reluctant agreement.

"Besides," Castle continued, "the kid thought it was funny! Did you see how hard he was laughing?"

Beckett sighed, shook her head, and pulled out her cellphone. "Esposito," she said, "where are we on Mindy's alibi and Cayman's address?"

"Alibi checks out," said Esposito. "She didn't leave the apartment until after ten. Cayman is at 2211 16th Street."

Beckett closed the cellphone. "That's right across the street," she said.

"What's right across the street?"

"Jesse Cayman, the guy that filed and then withdrew the charges against Penny. Let's go talk to him."

Beckett knocked on the door of 2211, and a young man carrying a baby answered the door. "Are you Jesse Cayman?" she asked him.

"That's me," he said, shifting the baby's weight on his hip. "Have we met?"

"Not likely," said Beckett. "I'm Kate Beckett with the NYPD, and this is Richard Castle. We just need to ask you some questions."

"Okay... yeah... come in and sit down." He showed them to his living room and asked them to sit down. In contrast to the frat house, this couch looked able to pass a health inspection, and they accepted Cayman's invitation.

"Do you recognize this girl?" Beckett asked him, holding up Penny's picture.

He shook his head. "No, sorry."

"Drunk and disorderly, 2006? Ring a bell?"

"Ohh," said Jesse, recognition dawning. He shook his head again. "Man, that was weird."

Castle raised his eyebrows and shared a look with Beckett. "Weird?" they asked in unison.

"Yeah..." Jesse's eyebrows furrowed, though he continued bouncing the baby on his knee. "Yeah, that whole scenario was really weird."

"What happened?" Beckett asked.

"I was a grad student at the time," said Jesse. "I had bare bones funding and my parents made just enough money to disqualify me for financial aid, so I lived here, in this house. Halfway down Greek row isn't exactly prime real estate, so I got a good deal, fixed rate and everything. Most of the time it's no big deal, but once in a while people get really out of hand. That night was one of those nights. I was working on writing some code—"

"Code?"

"Yeah, computer code. I'm a programmer. Anyway, I was stressed out with school and didn't have a whole lot of patience that night, and it was just ridiculously loud. I could hear this girl freaking out from all the way across the street!" Jesse shrugged, sitting still and stroking his baby's head. "So I called the cops."

"Why did you drop the charges?" Beckett asked.

"That's where it gets weird," said Jesse. "The next day, this guy comes storming out of that frat house—" he motioned to Kappa Beta Beta "—and knocks on my door. I was a little freaked out, so I only talked to him through the security chain, didn't open the door all the way. He tells me if I don't drop the charges against the girl, he's gonna sic his whole frat house on me and make my life miserable – egg my house, slash my tires, you name it. I figure one drunk girl versus a whole frat house; I'm okay letting the drunk girl off easy. So I called the cops back the next day and asked them to drop the charges. I guess the prosecutor had more than enough cases to deal with and didn't mind seeing one go."

"Did you ever see either of them again?"

"Not the girl," said Jesse, "but the guy that threatened me lived in that house, so I saw him from time to time – just in passing; I wanted nothing to do with him after he talked to me like that. But we lived across the street from each other, so yeah, I saw him.

"Did you know his name?" Beckett asked.

"He never mentioned it."

"Could you identify him?" Beckett showed him the composite photo. Jesse looked it over, pausing occasionally over one face or another.

"Him," said Jesse, pointing to an Adam Statton.

"Thank you," said Beckett, rolling up the photo and standing up to leave.

"One more thing," said Castle. "I see you're married now, got a little one, presumably a good job. Why do you still live here?"

Jesse looked a little embarrassed. "My wife and I are actually looking for a new place right now. We had hoped to move before little Benjamin was born, but between my work schedule and her being very pregnant, we just didn't get around to house hunting."

"Where _is _your wife?"

"She's out getting coffee with her sister who's in town this week. I've been able to take more time off now that we have the baby."

"I see," said Castle. "Thank you."

"What did you need to know that for?" Beckett wondered aloud when the got in the car.

Castle shrugged. "For the story. It just didn't make sense."

"Do you think where his wife is today has anything to do with our investigation?"

"Probably not," said Castle, "but I feel better understanding the story anyway."

Beckett shook her head. "You and your stories," she said.

Castle looked at her, pretending to be hurt. "My stories – both the ones I invent and the ones I go out of my way to discover – have helped you solve a lot of cases. Don't forget that."

That shut her up.


	5. Chapter 5: The Coincidence

"Adam Statton," said Beckett, slamming her hands on the table. "You raped a drunk college girl back in 2006, you were never convicted, and now she's dead. You want to explain to me how that's a coincidence?"

Statton shrugged, and responded in a heavy Brooklyn accent. "Like you said, I was never convicted. Girl never even pressed charges. I never saw her after that night. You wanna explain to me how you think I had anything to do with her death four years later?" He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, smirking as he waited for Beckett to respond.

"That girl's best friend positively identified you from you fraternity composite picture less than an hour ago. You obviously made an impression."

"Doesn't mean I killed her."

"Another man across the street from your fraternity house also identified you. He says you threatened him, said you were going make your whole fraternity humiliate him if he didn't withdraw the complaint against Penny. Now why would you do that? Were you just being a bully? Because I can charge with harassment just as fast as I can hold you on suspicion of murder."

Statton chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Alright," he said. "Yeah. We had sex. But she didn't say no! We were both drunk. Neither of us really knew what we were getting into, it was just a stupid misunderstanding!"

"A misunderstanding," Beckett repeated. "And what does that have to do with your neighbor?"

"I saw the chick with the cops, and first I thought she had already called them on me, so I freaked and laid low. Next day I heard through the grapevine this geeky grad student across the street had called the cops on her cuz she was makin such a fuss! I thought if he pressed charges, Penny would end up tellin the cops what else happened that night, and I didn't want that gettin out. So yeah. I told him to keep his mouth shut. You happy?"

"A girl is dead, Adam," said Beckett. "Forgive me if your sleazy, cowardly story doesn't make me happy."

Statton did a palms-up. "I don't know what else you want from me, lady. That's what happened."

Castle looked Statton over, unimpressed. "Why do I get the feeling you're not telling us the whole story?"

"Who the hell is this guy anyway?" Statton asked Beckett, motioning to Castle.

"You've got quite a criminal history outside raping drunk girls," Beckett continued, ignoring his question. "It says here you almost went to jail last year for drug trafficking, but you cut a deal and got probation."

"I was _cooperating,_" said Statton.

Beckett raised her eyebrows.

"I gave the DA everything he needed to know about Hunter Yates, the _real_ trafficker," said Statton. "He got five-to-ten; I got probation."

"So you ratted out your partner and got off easy."

"It wasn't like that!"

"Sure, it wasn't."

"I'm telling you, though," Statton went on. "That guy's scary – violent, see. Half the time he's not even all there." He made a motion to suggest snorting coke. "He's the one you should be talkin to. Not me."

"Are you saying Yates had a connection to Penny?" Beckett asked.

"I dunno!" said Statton, his voice going up half an octave. "I don't talk to him no more! I told you, he's dangerous! No tellin what he's been up to!"

Beckett leaned in closer to Statton, eye-to-eye with him. "Are you afraid of Hunter Yates, Adam?"

Adam looked back at her, blinking rapidly and thinking slowly. "Like I said. He's scary."

"We'll look into it," Beckett said to appease him. "Meanwhile I'm gonna need an alibi from you."

"I didn't kill her!"

"Your alibi, Adam. Or a confession, if that would be more convenient. Where were you between five and six yesterday morning?"

"I was at a hotel in Manhattan. Sleeping."

"Can anyone verify that?"

Statton shrugged. "Ask security."

"I'll need the name and address of the hotel." Beckett passed him a blank page in her notebook, and Statton scribbled down the information.

"You can go," said Beckett. "But don't go anywhere until we talk again."

"_Thank_ you," he said irritably, storming out of the interrogation room.

"I don't like him," said Castle after the door had closed.

"Neither do—whoa." Beckett's eyes grew as she read the address Statton had provided her.

"What?"

"This is the same hotel _I'm_ staying at."

Castle gulped. "What does that mean?"

"Hopefully nothing," said Beckett. "Probably just a coincidence."

"You know how I feel about coincidences," Castle reminded her.

"I'll be careful," Beckett promised on their way out of the interrogation room. "I sleep with a gun. That much hasn't changed since my apartment got blown up."

"I know but..."

"Castle. Don't worry. Let's follow up with this Hunter Yates guy. Can't hurt," she said.

"Yeah," said Castle distractedly. The memory of finding out her apartment had been targeted by the stalker still chilled him. He remembered running down the street, calling her name; and the sinking dread in his stomach coupled with the rising terror in his chest as the apartment exploded. He shook his head, reminding himself that Kate was alive and well, walking and talking right in front of him.

"Castle! Hey!" She snapped her fingers, breaking his reverie. "I'll be fine. Relax."

"Right," he said.

"Hey Ryan!" Beckett called across the cubicles. "I've got some more security footage for you to run through." She passed him the address, and Ryan tilted his head to one side.

"Isn't this the hotel you're staying at?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Beckett curtly, handing him a photo of Statton. "Check out the footage and see if you can confirm the he was in his room during our time of death window."

"You got it," said Ryan.

"Esposito?" Beckett asked. "I've got a job for you too. I need you to round up a man by the name of Hunter Yates." She tossed him the file. "You might want to bring backup. Sounds like the guy's a bit of a crackhead. In fact, both of you pick him up first. You can go over security footage later tonight."

"On it," said Esposito, preparing to leave. "How are you doing, by the way?" he asked more quietly.

"Fine," said Beckett. "Let's get to work."

Esposito nodded his understanding, and turned to get Ryan for the trip.

"God, I'm starving," said Beckett, sitting down momentarily at her desk.

"That's good," said Castle, pulling out his iPhone. "I mean, given the circumstances. What are you hungry for?"

"Uhm, I don't know." Beckett had set in on the pile of paperwork.

"Teriyaki?" Castle asked, skimming through some search result or other.

"Sure," said Beckett absentmindedly. "You know what I—" she started, then saw that Castle was on the phone.

"Yes, two specials," he said, before rattling off the precinct's address. "Thank you."

"Did you just order takeout?" Beckett asked.

"Yes. Yes I did."

Beckett looked like she was about to protest, but changed her mind. "Good. I'm hungry."

Castle turned to the murder board. "What do you think?" he asked.

"About what?"

"This case," said Castle. "You think it was Statton?"

"He's certainly our prime suspect," Beckett agreed. "He's the only one so far with anything remotely resembling motive. Still, it's strange that he would wait four years to kill her. I'm sure there's some other piece of the puzzle that'll make it all make sense."

"There usually is," said Castle.

Twenty minutes later, their food arrived, and they took a dinner break.

"Thanks for ordering," said Beckett, cracking apart a pair of chopsticks. "This is good."

"No problem. I don't think we even ate lunch. I was starving too."

Beckett nodded, having just taken a bite. Shortly after they had finished eating, Ryan and Esposito returned with Hunter Yates.

"We've got a real piece of work for you," said Esposito. "Good luck with this one."

Beckett sighed, tossed the empty takeout box into the trash, and stood up to head to the interrogation room. "You coming, Castle?" she asked.

"You forgot your fortune cookie," he answered.

"I'll eat it later," she said, giving Castle a look. "Come on."

Esposito hadn't been kidding. Hunter Yates was more fidgety than Castle on the way to Trenton, and he kept looking back and forth across the room for something that apparently wasn't there. Beckett asked her usual questions – if he recognized Penny, where he was when she was killed, and so on. He barely seemed lucid, but he kept mumbling about drugs. In the middle of the investigation, Beckett's phone rang. She was hesitant to leave Castle alone with the druggie, but she excused herself to take the call anyway.

"Come with me," she said to Yates when she came back. "I'm taking you over to vice."

"What?" said Castle. "What happened?"

"Vice has been trying to track this guy down all day, but Ryan and Esposito beat them to it. Funny enough, an eyewitness called yesterday morning, tipping us off that he was buying and using cocaine in an alley in Brooklyn, right in the middle of our time of death range. There's no way he would have had time to get to Manhattan in time to kill Penny... especially if he was under the influence."

"No kidding," said Castle. "Guess he's not our guy."

Shortly after they dropped Yates of with vice, Beckett's cellphone rang again, and this time it was Lanie. Beckett was frowning in confusion when she disconnected.

"Yates' fingerprints were found on Penny's belt buckle," she said, "as well as partial prints on the buttons of her shirt."

"I thought we just decided he couldn't have done it," said Castle, speeding up to keep up with Beckett as she hurried back to the whiteboard.

"Just because his prints were on her clothing doesn't mean he killed her," said Beckett. "But it's definitely worth looking in to. We should do another sweep of the murder scene tomorrow," she added. "See if we missed anything."

"Good idea," said Castle. "You ready to call it a night?"

"Just about," said Beckett. "I'm just gonna catch up on paperwork for another hour or so. You're welcome to head home."

"Are you gonna be alright tonight?" Castle asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm feeling much better," she said. "I'll be fine."

"I mean with Statton being in your hotel."

"Don't worry," said Beckett. "I told you; I'll be careful. And I'll be armed. Go get some rest, Castle. I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning," he agreed, and grabbed his bag on the way out the door. "Goodnight."

Castle reclined on the couch, zoning out into his laptop screen. He hadn't left Nikki Heat in a particularly favorable position, but he couldn't get his mind off the case.

"Hey, Dad," said Alexis from across the room. "What're you working on?"

"That's a good question," said Castle distractedly. "How are you, sweetie?" He finally looked up from the screen to greet his daughter.

"Good," said Alexis. "You look puzzled."

"Puzzled indeed," said Castle, setting his laptop on the coffee table. "As usual, the case just hasn't come together quite yet. One of our suspects may or not have an alibi, but his motive doesn't quite make sense so many years later. Our other suspect has an alibi – a somewhat shaky one, but still an alibi – and yet his prints were found at the scene."

"So what's the problem?" Alexis asked, sitting down next to Castle and hugging an overstuffed pillow.

"The prints don't prove he killed her," Castle explained, "only that he must have been in contact with our victim very recently. The prints were on her belt buckle and shirt buttons."

"Maybe he found her after she was dead and tried to save her," said Alexis.

"I don't think he had any connection to her that would make... oh..."

"What?"

"I have a theory," he said. He looked at his watch. "But I'll tell Beckett in the morning. She should still be taking it easy, in my opinion."

"How _is_ Detective Beckett?" Alexis asked.

"Much better," said Castle. He mentally braced himself, wondering if Alexis had figured out that Beckett had stayed the night, and if he should wear his Kevlar to the station the next day. "She seemed fine at work all day," he said, hoping that was vague enough.

"That's good," said Alexis. "It was weird seeing her like that."

"Tell me about it..." said Castle. He picked up his laptop again, determined to get his heroine out of her humiliating pickle. "_Nikki couldn't believe she'd let him see her that way,"_ he began to type.

Beckett kept her senses on full alert as she walked into the hotel and up the elevator. No sign of Statton. _And no reason to believe I'd need to worry if there was_, she told herself. All the same, she felt better once she was safely behind a locked door and had made sure the room was empty. The first thing she did was to finally take a shower. It was blissful, washing away the two days of stress. She still couldn't believe she'd let Castle talk her into staying the night as his house, in his _bed_ no less. _Why didn't I just stay on his couch? _she asked herself. It would have been the rational thing to do. It had been late, and it was true, she hadn't felt like making the trip back to the hotel, but that still didn't give her an excuse to sleep in his bed. _It _was_ a nice bed,_ she thought. Not that that was by any means justification.

She ran her fingers through her hair, rinsing out the last of the conditioner and savoring the heat of the warm water. Then, she toweled off and dressed in her own pajamas, settling in for night. She flicked on the TV for a while, but nothing interesting was on, so instead she picked up the copy of _Storm Rising_ she had been re-reading the day before. She didn't get further than a few pages, though. As much as the unsolved case and her unjustified sleepover with Castle were nagging at her, she was completely exhausted. She set the book on the nightstand, and as she pulled the blanket up and fell asleep, her last thought was that the thermal warmth of the hotel room couldn't compare to the deeper warmth of Castle's home.


	6. Chapter 6: The Martini

**Author's notes: It's all coming together! Only one more chapter after this one! It's been so much fun to write, and actually inspired me to write an original murder mystery next. Thanks for all your reading and reviewing – it's always nice to know my project have been enjoyable for someone other than myself!**

**By the way, if any of you out there know are more familiar with law and criminal justice than I am, please feel free to correct me on any procedure or terminology that I may have used incorrectly. I'm always open to suggestions for improvement regarding accuracy (or actually regarding anything!)**

**One of you had mentioned that I needed section breaks – as it turns out, I did have them originally, but the uploading process took them out somehow and I didn't catch it! Sorry about that, and thanks for pointing it out! I'm going to play around with it a little so I can figure out how to get the section breaks back where they belong.**

**Anyway, enjoy chapter six!**

Early the next morning, Castle and Beckett drove back to the crime scene for a second look. It proved to be worth their while, because they found something rather suspicious: a marble pestle, lying conveniently in the middle of the taped off crime scene.

"There's no way CSU missed this," said Beckett, pulling on a pair of gloves before bending down to pick up the pestle and bag it.

"Are you sure?" Castle asked. "You weren't exactly at full capacity that morning."

"Yeah, but I wasn't the one doing the sweep. I'm sure they were thorough. This must have been dropped here since then. I'll bring it in and give it to forensics. Maybe they can pull some prints or fibers." Beckett zipped the bag and headed back to the car, Castle close on her heels.

Ten minutes later at the medical examiner's office, Lanie confirmed Beckett's suspicions that the pestle was involved in the murder. "It's got Statton's prints all over it," she said, "but don't get too excited. Statton is 5'9". He's not your killer."

"Damn," said Beckett. "Well... at least we know he's involved."

"I'll see if I can get anything else useful off it and let you know. Good luck, sweetie," said Lanie, turning back to her stiff-of-the-day.

On their way back to the precinct, Beckett called Ryan. "Where are we with the hotel security and Statton's alibi?" she asked. "Lanie says he's too short to be our killer, but I just want to make sure."

"He's clean," said Ryan. "Tapes show him taking the elevator up to his room around midnight, and he didn't leave again till after eight the next morning."

"So it definitely wasn't Statton," she said, sounding a little disappointed. "Anything else?"

"Esposito and I are looking into Penny's financials, and tech is working on pulling pictures off her sim card. We'll let you know if anything pops."

"Thanks," said Beckett, disconnecting.

Castle bee-lined for the espresso machine when they got back, and Beckett added the new alibis and other information. Castle handed her a cup of coffee right as her phone rang, and she struggled to balance the cup, the phone, and the whiteboard marker.

"Beckett." Her eyes dilated. "Okay. Thanks." She closed the phone, frowned deeply, and turned back to the board, writing furiously.

"What?" Castle asked, trying to get a look at the new writing.

"Adam Statton is dead," said Beckett. "His body was just found in a dumpster in the Bronx."

"I think someone didn't want us to talk to him," Castle hypothesized.

"Maybe," said Beckett. "Either way, we certainly won't be talking to him now." She sighed. There wasn't much left in the suspect column. Only the victim's mother had a shaky alibi, and no motive. It wasn't much to go off of. "I guess we could look more into the mother, but I've got no probable cause, and so far as I can tell no motive. There's no reason to believe Penny was worth more to her dead in any way or..." She trailed off as Esposito raised his hand from across the room.

"We've got her financials pointing to her last known whereabouts," he said. "The last charge on her debit card was made at this bar not far from the crime scene." He handed her a printout.

"Great," said Beckett. "Let's go check it out."

"I wonder who killed Statton," Castle mused on the way to the bar. "Not that I'm complaining about having a rapist ex-frat boy out of the picture, but it can't be a coincidence that he turns up dead the day after we question him."

"Yeah, probably not," said Beckett. "Lanie's doing his autopsy today. With any luck, that'll shed some light on the matter." She parked along the curb, got out of the car, and walked under the scaffolding that loomed over the restaurant's awning. "Huh," she said. "I was just here on Monday night." Realizing that, she took another look at the printout Esposito had given her. "Penny and I were here at the same time," she added.

"Really?" said Castle. "Hmm. Another strange 'coincidence.' That's the second place in this investigation that you've been to recently. And now at the same time as our victim."

Beckett tried to shrug it off, but she had to admit it was a little uncanny. "It _is_ weird," she agreed. "Let's see what the staff have to say about it."

The bartender, who had in fact been working the night Penny and Beckett had both been in, was in no happy mood to chat about the evening. Beckett asked him if he remembered anything unusual about that night, and he crossed his arms, looking impatient.

"It was busy. All kinds of hell busy. Why?"

"We're investigating a murder, and this was the last place she was known to be alive."

"I don't know nothing about any murder," said the bartender.

Beckett showed him Penny's picture. "Did you see her here on Monday night?"

"This old college buddy of mine came in here, looking to score," he said, quietly enough that none of the customers could hear him. "With her – but I don't see how that's any of your business."

Beckett showed him pictures of Yates and Statton. "Was it either of these two men?"

"Yeah, that one." He indicated Statton. "What's this got to do with murder?"

Castle spoke up. "We suspect this man may have been involved in her murder. He was also found dead this morning, shedding further suspicion on his involvement."

All the color drained from the bartender's face. "Wait... Adam's dead?"

"Dead," Beckett confirmed. "The more you cooperate, the better chance we have of catching his killer, and the girl's. Why don't you start by telling me everything that happened that night?"

"Adam came in here," said the bartender, lowering his voice another couple notches. "He told me he wanted to get with this girl, and he gave me something to put in her drink."

"What was it?" Castle asked.

"I dunno, somethin' in a test tube. I thought it was kind of weird. Usually roofies are in a pill, so I have no idea what he gave me. I figured it was something new, but I didn't ask. Like I said, it was busy."

"And did you put it in her drink?" Beckett asked, leaning in close with her hands on the bar.

The bartender stalled, debating whether he should answer.

"I can charge you with conspiracy to commit sexual assault, or I can charge with obstruction of justice. Which one is it going to be?"

"Fine. I spiked her drink," the bartender admitted.

"And then what happened?" Beckett continued.

"I don't know," said the bartender. "I was making drinks until last call. It was a busy night, so I wasn't paying much attention to where the drinks went after I made them."

"Did you bring the drinks to the customers, or did they pick them up?"

"Depends. People that were sitting at the bar, I just handed the drinks straight to them. People sitting in the restaurant part, I had a waiter bring them their drinks – like any other restaurant and bar. You don't get out much, do you?"

"Where was Penny sitting?" Beckett asked, ignoring the commentary on her social life.

"No idea," said the bartender. "You'd have to ask the waiter."

"Is he here?" Castle asked.

"Uhm..." the bartender looked over the restaurant, searching for a face. "Yeah. J.C. over there," he said pointing to a gangly teenager balancing a tray full of dishes. "Why don't you ask him if he knows anything?"

"We'll do that," said Beckett. "Just don't go anywhere until we can verify your alibi. You said you were working until last call?"

"That's right."

Castle and Beckett left the bar and approached J.C., and Beckett showed him her badge. The kid almost dropped the tray.

"C-can I help you?" he asked.

"You can answer some questions for me," said Beckett. "Were you working here on Monday night?"

"Yeah," he said. "Six to close."

"Did you serve this girl?" Beckett showed him the photograph of Penny.

"Yeah," he said again. "She's the girl from the mix-up."

"Mix-up?" Castle and Beckett asked in unison.

"Yeah..." J.C. looked at floor and shifted his grip on the tray of dishes. "It was a really busy night, we were short a waiter, and I've only been working here for about a week. I got her drink mixed up with someone else's by accident. She ordered a cherry martini, and I brought her a cosmo instead. She didn't seem to mind though, said she might as well try something new, and not to worry about it."

"I wonder who got the cherry martini," Beckett pondered, more to Castle than to J.C.

"And what happened to her," Castle added. Suddenly, he stood up very straight and opened his eyes unnaturally wide. He put a hand on Beckett's arm, pulling her away from J.C. "Beckett," he asked her softly, "what are the effects of holly berry poisoning?"

"Mostly just vomiting," she said. "Why?"

"You were vomiting on Tuesday."

"Yeah. I had food poisoning," said Beckett, her tone implying that Castle was unnecessarily stating the abundantly obvious.

"Are you sure?" Castle asked. "What if it was just... poisoning?"

"What are you suggesting, Castle?" Beckett asked, beginning to look annoyed. "That the killer snuck into my hotel and tried to poison me with holly berries so I couldn't crack the case?"

J.C. cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I go drop off this tray?"

Beckett turned to J.C. "Come right back," she said firmly. J.C. nodded nervously and left with the precariously balanced tray, and Beckett turned back to Castle. "You were saying?"

"What if _you_ got the spiked martini?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure roofies doesn't come in a test tube. I'll bet you anything Adam Statton lied about what was in it. I think he was trying to poison Penny, but he got you instead. You were here at the same time."

Beckett's mind reeled, processing the possibility. "But the berries aren't fatal," she said after a minute.

"True," said Castle. "Thank goodness. But a hearty conk to the head is. Maybe the whack to the head was take two of Operation Kill Penny."

"Statton still alibied out," said Beckett, thinking hard, trying to visualize the information on the whiteboard back at the station. "Someone else ultimately killed her."

"And someone killed Statton. Maybe Statton was killed for failing to kill Penny."

Just then, Beckett's phone rang. It was Lanie. "Beckett," she answered.

"Got some very interesting news for you," said Lanie. "Forensics just got done with the pestle. The end _not_ covered in Statton's prints is coated in the same mixture of chromium and holly berries found in Penny's hair. And, its shape matches the fracture pattern on Penny's skull. It's definitely the murder weapon."

"Great. Thanks, Lanie." Beckett closed the phone and turned to Castle. "We've got a murder weapon," she said. "And you might actually be on to something with those berries."

J.C. reappeared, but Beckett told him he was free to go. Instead, they returned to the bartender.

"More questions?" he asked, sounding disgruntled.

"Just one," said Beckett. "Do you still have the test tube Adam Statton gave you?"

"Yep."

"I'm going to need to take it back to the station as evidence."

"Now?" the bartender groaned. "It's way in the back in my locker."

"Yeah. Now."

The bartender sighed irritably, set down the lemon he'd been slicing, and left to retrieve the test tube. Meanwhile, Beckett filled Castle in on what Lanie had told her, then waited for his inevitable best seller's melodramatic take on it.

"A mortar and pestle are used for grinding ingredients," said Castle. No surprise. "I'll bet Statton used the pestle to grind the holly berries – and the chromium, whatever that was for – and then..."

"And then what, Castle?" Beckett asked. "We already know Statton didn't kill Penny, even if the pestle was his. He solidly alibis out, and he doesn't match the height profile."

"He wasn't on the security cameras, but what if he left out the window?"

"From the eighth floor?" Beckett asked. "Wearing what, four inch heels?"

"You could do it," said Castle.

Beckett rolled her eyes. "He's a frat boy. I highly doubt he would scale a building wearing four inch heels."

"Okay. But if not Statton, then who?"

Before she could answer, the bartender returned with the test tube. "Here," he said begrudgingly. "But I'm warning you, you haven't read me my rights or shown me a search warrant, so I'd better not see this used against me in court."

"Thank you for your cooperation," said Beckett, taking the test tube and walking out of the restaurant.

On the way back, they dropped off the test tube with forensics, and then returned to the whiteboard. As Beckett wrote the bartender's name on the board, she asked Esposito to call restaurant management to verify that he was working the whole night. While Esposito was checking with the manager, Ryan walked over with a stack of paper.

"In between checking alibis, we dug a little more into the phone records. Nothing too interesting in her call log, but check this out." He held up a disk.

"What's this?" Beckett asked.

"Pop it in," said Ryan.

Beckett put the CD into her computer and pulled up a video. It was dark and grainy, quality that could be expected from a cellphone, but the scenario was clear. Two men were arguing in a back alley. One of them was tall, wearing a suit and a large nametag, and the other was smaller, wearing khakis and sweater. The smaller one was yelling at the other.

"You sent me the wrong damn product!" said the smaller man. "Looks like my wife gets to live another week, and that's gonna be long enough for her to serve me with divorce papers!"

"Keep your voice down," said the taller man in a heavy Russian accent, leaning over the other man threateningly. "I'll get you replacement by overnight shipping and full refund. Now get out of here." The tall man was about to turn his face toward the camera when the video abruptly ended.

"It looks like Penny witnessed some sort of transaction gone bad," said Beckett.

"Wait, can you zoom in on his nametag?" Castle asked.

Beckett rewound the video and Castle squinted at it, trying to make out the name.

"It's too blurry," said Beckett.

"Not the name," said Castle. "Look at the logo. It's EPSNY."

"What's EPSNY?" asked Ryan. He and Beckett looked at Castle blankly.

"Endangered Plant Society of New York. I've been to one of their benefits."

Beckett typed the name into Google, and came up with the face of the very man they had seen wearing the nametag. "He's the CEO," she said. "Looks like he was running something else on the side. His name is Arseny Udovin. Let's see what we can find on this guy."

"Your bartender is clean," Esposito shouted across the room.

"Got something new for you," Beckett responded. "Dig up anything you can get on Arseny Udovin.

"I'm on it," said Esposito.

Ryan dropped the stack of phone records on Beckett's desk and went to go join Esposito on the hunt for Udovin. Beckett picked up a different stack of files and blew out a long breath.

"God, I'm behind on paperwork," she groaned. "I hate missing a day."

"You needed it," Castle reminded her.

"I know," she said wearily. "Why don't you go home for lunch and I'll call you if we get anything on Udovin? I need to get some of this paperwork done."

"Yeah," Castle sighed, much to Beckett's surprise. "I need to get some writing done."

Beckett nodded. "Alright. I'll call you later."

Before leaving, Castle pulled out his iPhone and snapped a picture of the whiteboard. When he got home, he sent it to his laptop, magnified it, and printed it out, then sat staring at it. _There has to be more to Adam Statton's story,_ he thought. He opened up a new Word document, and instead of working on his book, he began to free-write about Adam Statton.

"Good morning," said Martha from the top of the stairs, startling Castle.

"Good morning, Mother," he said, turning away from his laptop to look at her. She was still in her nightgown despite the fact that it was after eleven.

"I see you're writing!" she said, sounding delighted. "Did you and Beckett finish that case?"

"Not yet," said Castle. "We're just waiting on some information, and she needed to do some paperwork, so I came home for a few hours. How are you, Mother?"

"Oh, just fine," said Martha with a wave of her hand. "I'm meeting an old flame for coffee this afternoon. Speaking of which, you didn't leave me any coffee!"

"It's eleven o'clock," Castle enlightened her. "And I made coffee at the station this morning."

"Ah, well, never you mind," said Martha. She pulled a bottle of red wine from on top of the refrigerator instead and poured herself a glass. "You look troubled," she added.

"It's this case," said Castle. "One of our prime suspects turned up dead in a dumpster, and I have no idea what happened to him. We know he was involved, and just when we found his prints on the murder weapon, we found out he was dead. And then there's this new suspect from EPSNY... they're tracking him down now..."

"You'll catch him, dear," said Martha. "You always do."

"Yeah," said Castle. "And then there's all the places Beckett's been."

"What?"

"She and Penny were at the same restaurant at the same time, and the guy that just turned up dead was staying at the same hotel she's staying at," said Castle. "It just can't be a coincidence."

"Of course not. Where's the drama in that?"

"Exactly," said Castle. "I'd never write something like that and not have it go anywhere."

"I have faith in you," Martha assured him. "Your instincts turn out to be right more often that not, do they not?"

"That's precisely why I'm worried," said Castle.

"Beckett's a tough girl," Martha reminded him, reading his mind. "She can look out for herself."

"I know, Mother." He decided not to mention his poisoning theory.

"Alright, well, I'm going to get ready. Best of luck with the case!"

"Mmhmm," said Castle absentmindedly. _Why did they kill you?_ he asked the Word document bearing Statton's name. He decided to see if Lanie had any information on her yet.

"Blunt force trauma to the head again," she said when Castle called her. "And the angle indicates the same height range as whoever killed Penny. I'd say there's a good chance it's the same killer," she said.

"Do you think Statton was supposed to kill Penny and failed, then someone else killed Statton to punish him?"

"Hell if I know," said Lanie. "All I can tell you is there's a fatal dent in his skull, and big, tall guy put it there."

_Udovin's big and tall,_ Castle thought after he hung up. He immediately picked up the phone again and called Beckett.

"Got anything?" he asked.

"Not much. Why, Castle? Writer's block?"

"No," he said. It was partly true. "I wonder if there's a connection between Statton and Udovin."

"Not that we've found yet," said Beckett. "I can have Ryan and Esposito check from Statton's side and see if anything pops. We'll let you know."

"Okay," said Castle.

"Are you okay, Castle? You sound really worked up about something."

"Yeah. Nothing. Just let me know if you find anything out."

"I will," Beckett promised. "Now go work on your book."

Castle hung up and picked up his laptop again. "_Nikki carefully sifted through the evidence, searching for any connection that would lead them to the killer..."_


	7. Chapter 7: The Killer

**Author's Notes: At last, I bring you the concluding chapter! A couple of you had wondered if Ryan and Esposito would learn from the security cameras that Beckett spent the night with Castle – alas, no. They were checking the tapes for his alibi for early Tuesday **_**morning**_**, shortly before the NYPD arrived at the crime scene. It was after that that Beckett got sick, and thus Tuesday **_**night**_** she spent at Castle's house. Now, if only they had to look through the tapes for Tuesday, it would have been funny!**

**

* * *

**

Toccata and Fugue in D minor began to play on Castle's iPhone, and he scrambled to pick it up.

"Whatcha got?" he asked.

"You were right in thinking Statton and Udovin were connected," said Beckett. "They were arrested together recently for grand theft auto, although the charges were dropped. Here's the interesting part though: Udovin is a fake name, and EPSNY is a front for his real operation. His real name is Ivan Stanchev, and he makes a fine living selling poisons. He has a real soft spot for plant-based ones," she added.

"Plants like holly berries?" Castle asked.

"Probably," said Beckett. "Ryan and Esposito are bringing him in now, and forensics is trying to trace the source of the berries we found on the pestle and in Penny's hair."

"What about the test tube?"

"There, too. They all match."

"So Statton gets the berries from Stanchev, grinds them up in the mortar and pestle, and puts the mix in a test tube to poison Penny... but it all ends up in your glass, and Stanchev gets pissed that Penny's still alive, so he finishes her off himself, and kills Statton while he's at it."

"It's possible," said Beckett. "Anyway, Stanchev should be in soon. Come on in if you want to be here for the interrogation."

"I'm on my way," said Castle.

He got there just in time for the burly Russian's arrival. Beckett sat across from him in the interrogation room, and played the video for him.

"You want to explain this to me?" she asked.

"Angry customer," he said in his thick accent. His expression didn't change. "I give him free replacement product, customer go away happy. No problems."

"Not a customer of the Endangered Plant Society of New York," said Beckett. It wasn't a question. "That's just a front for your business distributing plant-based poisons. This customer sounded like he was going to kill his wife, and you knew about it. Do you have an explanation for _that_?"

"No business of mine what customer do with product," said Stanchev.

"Not a lot of things somebody can do with poison."

"Still not my business."

"Poisons are your business. Sounds pretty straightforward. Do you know this girl?" Beckett asked, changing gears and showing him Penny.

Stanchev crossed his arms. "I vant a lawyer," he said.

Beckett smirked. It wasn't a confession, but it was a good start. She let Stanchev go, and checked in with Ryan and Esposito. "What have we got on him?" she asked.

"Nasty rap sheet," said Ryan. "On top of the grand theft auto with Statton, he's been arrested for possession with intent to distribute, aggravated assault, racketeering..."

Beckett took the file and glanced at his picture. "Six-foot-three," she said. "Right in the middle of our height estimate." She picked up her phone and called forensics. "Any word on the source of the berries or the chromium?"

"The berries are definitely ilex aquifolium, English holly," said the forensics expert. "It doesn't usually grow in the area, but we've got a list of a few botanical gardens and other such locations where it can be found nearby. We'll fax it to you right away."

Beckett thanked the forensics expert and hung up, then picked up the fax. "EPSNY, would you look at that," she said. "Stanchev's organization is one of the few places with live holly trees in New York. I'm going to see about getting a search warrant for his office."

Castle sighed. "It's a shame about EPSNY. Here I was thinking they were doing something good in the world, and it turns out all we have is a façade for poison-loving crime boss."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Castle," said Beckett, furiously typing an affidavit for a search warrant. "But I thought you'd like such a twist."

"I guess you're right," said Castle, feeling a pang of guilt about his neglected writing. "You know... I need to take care of some stuff at home. You'll let me know if we get that warrant?"

Beckett nodded. "We probably won't have it till tomorrow. I'll let you know."

Castle thanked her and went home, determined to help Nikki Heat solve her crime while he was waiting to help Beckett solve hers.

Fortune was not on Castle's side. He got home to find Alexis curled up on the couch in tears.

"Alexis!" he exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so stupid," she moaned into a pillow.

"That's not true," said Castle, sitting down next to her and stroking her back. "You're brilliant. What could possibly make you think otherwise? Did you only get 98% on a test?"

"It's not that," said Alexis. "It's Joey."

"Who's Joey?" Castle tried to think if Alexis had mentioned this name before.

"This boy in third period," Alexis groaned.

"What did he do?" Castle asked.

Alexis finally sat up. "He paid some kid to embarrass me in front of the entire class. I beat Joey in the sentence diagramming contest last week, and Joey's mom was supposed to buy him Kanye West tickets if he won, so he didn't get to go to the concert because of me." She took a shaky breath. "And we had presentations on our favorite influential writers in class today, and instead of making a presentation, he used his time slot to tell the entire class how much of a nerd I am, and how only school is important to me, and that I don't care about people at all, and everyone was staring at me..."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," said Castle. "That was very mean of him. You do care about people. You care a lot. But that doesn't mean you should have let him win on purpose. You're smart, and you won fair and square. I'm sure Joey will be just fine without going to see Kanye West."

"I can't believe he paid his friend to hurt me like that. And Brandon, the one that made the presentation about me, just wasted_ his_ whole grade for money! Why would he do that?"

"People do some desperate and foolish things," said Castle. "In this case, for instance, a bartender poisoned someone because an old college friend of his _supposedly _wanted to get laid. And if I'm not mistaken, I think that very poison is what made Beckett so sick."

"Really?" said Alexis. "Why her? Aren't you worried?"

"Of course I'm worried," said Castle, glad he could confide in his daughter. "But he wasn't trying to get her. The drinks got switched accidentally."

"Oh," said Alexis. "That's still scary."

"I'll say it is. Say, are you hungry? I was just thinking of ordering a pizza."

"Sure," said Alexis. "Can we watch a movie tonight too? I finished all my homework during lunch."

"You bet," said Castle. Nikki Heat's chain of evidence was just going to have to wait another day.

* * *

It was ten o'clock on Friday morning, and Beckett hadn't called yet. Castle was beginning to get worried. He knew the drinks were an accident and Statton was dead, but he was still on edge, wondering if there was some sinister piece of the plot they had yet to uncover. Unable to focus on his writing, he gave up and called her.

"Beckett," she answered.

"Ah... good," said Castle, sounding relieved.

"What's good?"

"Nothing. Have we got that warrant yet?"

"Still waiting, but we should have it by this afternoon. And by the way, we're working on who killed Statton. There was nothing suspicious in his financials or his phone records. Plenty of calls to Stanchev, but we already knew they were connected."

"Partners in crime, yes," said Castle. "But we know Statton didn't kill Penny. I'm still betting Statton was supposed to, and Stanchev offed them both when he botched the job."

"There was nothing in Statton's financials to suggest he was getting paid to do the hit. And he's not exactly hit man material."

"Maybe not paid," said Castle. "Maybe he was getting something else – drugs, protection..."

"It's possible," said Beckett, "but we haven't got much in the way of evidence, other than the fact the someone of the same height killed Penny and Statton."

"And that someone could be Stanchev."

"Yes, or it could any one of thousands of people in New York that happen to be six-two. I'll call you when we get the warrant."

"See you then," said Castle. He set down his iPhone, picked up his laptop, and stared at it. He held his fingers poised over the keys, waiting for lightning to strike and give him all the perfectly worded ideas. No lightning bolts came. He slogged through a few uninspired sentences, then went to the refrigerator for the whipped cream can.

Half a can of whipped cream later, Beckett finally called to tell him they'd gotten the warrant. Castle jumped in a cab and met her at the office, wearing his bulletproof "Writer" vest.

Stanchev's office was a study in opposites. Most of it was decorated to look like any other environmental nonprofit, but the tools and furniture looked like they came straight out a scary B-movie.

"Hey Beckett," said Esposito. "Take a look at this." He had found the mortar to match the pestle. "Looks like it's coated in that same stuff."

"Yep," said Beckett. "Bag it."

The team was about to leave, when Castle tripped over something as he was shimmying out of a space behind the desk. "OW!" he cried out. "What the—oh."

"What is it, Castle?" Beckett asked.

"I think I found another murder weapon," he said. The thing he had tripped over was an ornate bronze fire poker. Its handle was covered in blood. He looked up, and found a matching blood spatter on file cabinet about five feet away.

"Looks like you found the murder scene too," said Beckett, following his gaze to the blood on the file cabinet.

"Penny was killed with the pestle," Castle reminded her. "This must have been from another victim."

"Statton!" they said at the same time.

Esposito shook his head in amusement. "You know, it's still creepy when you two do that."

Beckett didn't answer him, but put the fire poker in another evidence bag. "Let's get these to forensics, and get CSU down here to see what they can find," she said.

Two hours later, forensics had confirmed that the mortar and pestle were a match, and that the blood from the fire poker did indeed belong to Adam Statton. CSU also corroborated that the office had no prints save Stanchev's and Statton's. Moreover, Stanchev's prints were on the fire poker.

"So, my melodramatic best-seller theory was once again proven not-so-crazy," Castle gloated.

"Yeah, well, once in a while our suspects are almost as full of drama as you are," said Beckett.

"Seems weird that Stanchev would be sloppy enough to leave his prints all over the fire poker and not get rid of the evidence," Castle mused, changing the subject.

"It was probably a crime of passion," said Beckett. "That tends to be when people make mistakes."

Ryan crossed the room, carrying a DVD. "Speaking of mistakes, take a look at this. That car that Statton and Stanchev stole was just caught on this traffic camera from the Bronx. Check it out."

Castle and Beckett could hardly believe their eyes – or their luck. There was Stanchev, driving the stolen vehicle.

"That's only a couple of blocks from where Statton's body was found," said Beckett.

"Yep," said Ryan. "When we talked to the guy that gave us the tip about the body, he said he saw a car leaving the alley while he was taking out the trash. That's what made us think to look through traffic camera footage in the area. We compared them to the stolen vehicle report, and the plates match."

"Good work, Ryan," said Beckett. "Let's find Stanchev and see if he's found a lawyer yet. He's gonna need one."

Later that afternoon, Stanchev and his lawyer were sitting across the table from Beckett in the interrogation room. Castle watched from outside with Ryan and Esposito.

"Are you ready to tell me where you were when Penny was killed?" Beckett asked.

"Don't answer that," said Stanchev's lawyer. Stanchev said nothing.

"Great," said Beckett. "You can tell the grand jury, then. I'll turn all my evidence over to the D.A. and you can enjoy a nice twenty-to-life." With that, she calmly stood up to leave.

"Statton was _idiot,_" said Stanchev. Beckett turned around. "First he use wrong berries. Not even fatal poison. Then he poison wrong drink. He was liability."

"So you killed him?" Beckett asked.

"Criminal turn up dead. Nobody care."

"The jury will care plenty," said Beckett. "Have a nice trial."

Castle was ghostly white when Beckett returned from the interrogation room.

"What's wrong with _you_?" Beckett asked. "We got our guy. Time to let the D.A. worry about it."

"He could have killed you," Castle breathed. "If he'd gotten the right berries, you'd be dead."

"Yeah, but he didn't, and I'm not."

"I know." Castle didn't look at all consoled.

"Come on, Castle," said Beckett, patting him firmly on the back. "Let's go get some dinner. Maybe a couple of drinks will perk you up."

"Okay," said Castle, linking arms with her. "But whatever we do, let's _not _order martinis."

~THE END~

* * *

**(Concluding) Author's Notes: I had a blast writing this. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! In fact, when I was done with it, I actually ended up responding to a challenge from another writer friend of mine and writing an expanded (and much MUCH more gritty!) version of the first two chapters from Beckett's point of view. I'm curious, is that something you readers would be interested in seeing? (I'm not even sure I can do it, I know the website doesn't allow duplicates of stories, but I'm not sure if/how that applies to alternate versions... I'd have to look into it.) Anyway, thanks for reading this through to the end! Cheers! -LC**


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